Do You Want Boggarts? Because That's How You Get Boggarts!
by Dungeon Inspector
Summary: Hogwarts gets a new teacher: Sterling Archer. One-shot that has turned into a story.
1. Chapter 1: Boggarts

Disclaimer: Obviously, Archer and Harry Potter aren't mine. If they were I wouldn't be writing crappy fanfiction. So there you go.

Just a short what-if based on the Reddit writing prompt of "Hogwarts gets a new teacher: Sterling Archer". The topic is over a year old, so it ended up here on fanfiction.

Edited for grammer: 10/07

* * *

 _Do You Want Boggarts? Because That's How You Get Boggarts!_

* * *

"Listen up mini people, Butter Beer should have **more** than 1.5oz of whiskey."

Hermione Granger raises her hand. "Professor Sterling, Butter Beer isn't supposed to have whiskey in it. It's based on Buttered Beer which appeared in a book ' _The Good Huswifes Handmaide for the Kitchin'_ in 1588. The primary ingredients are beer, sugar, nutmeg, and clove."

Archer unscrewed a flask and poured whiskey into his Butter Beer. "So...It's like ice cream, you can like mint chocolate chip or you can be wrong."

"The only thing wrong here that Hogwarts has employed a drunken muggle." Draco Malfoy said with a sneer. "Strength lies not in defense, but in attack. We don't need defense against the dark arts, we need to strike the mudbloods down."

"Calm down Adolf. The only one in this class you should be worrying about is fire-crotch over there since gingers have no souls." Archer says pointing at Ron Weasley.

Malfoy slammed his hand down onto his desk. "Did you just compare **me** to some muggle? You just wait till my father hears about this!"

As he chugged his Butter Beer, Archer held out one finger using the classic "in a moment" sign . "Your father can go fuck a sheep. We're in Scotland. That's like, the national pass time or something!" Leaving the empty mug on a desk, he pulled out a rifle.

The muggle-born student's eyes widened in fear while Ron Weasley's widened in excitement. "My father told me about those. It's a muggle boomstick!"

"Sure, let's go with that..." Said Arched as he cocked the rifle. "This is my boomstick! Also known to the non-retarded as an AR-15. It's a .223 caliber and because of the pussies behind the Federal Assault Weapons ban it only holds 10 rounds. Make sure to count the shots children it's very important."

Hermione's hand raised again. "Professor you're supposed to be teaching us about Boggarts today. You have to use the banishing spell Riddikulus on them not a gun."

"We get it already, your panties are wet for soulless-McGee over there. Little advice, give up. The only thing he's cuddling at night with is some guy named Peter." Archer raised his gun. "Ok, poodle head time for you do finally do something intelligent. Let out the Booger thingy."

With a heavy sigh, Hermione trudged over to the closet in the back of the classroom and swung open the door.

The swirling black mist quickly reformed into a humanoid shape as the Boggart emerged. Stomping down one heeled foot the Boggart screamed "Sterling Mallory Archer!"

"Mother!" fumbling his rifle in shock Archer shot the Boggart.

Returning to its mist form the Boggart fled back into the closet.

"I have, like, the largest murder boner right now." said Archer as he stared at the spot he'd last seen his "mother". "Um, so... yeah. You just have to do that and not die. BANG, you've got yourself a dead Boggart.

Hermione sighed. "Professor it's not dead. Boggarts are immortal beings that take the shape of our deepest fears."

"So... it'll come back?"

"Of course." said Hermione, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

"I can infinity kill mother..." Archer bursts out laughing. "Best gig ever!"

 _ _Closing Theme Plays__


	2. Chapter 2: The Sorting Hat

Disclaimer: Obviously, Archer and Harry Potter aren't mine. If they were I wouldn't be writing crappy fanfiction. So there you go.

This was supposed to be a one-shot series, but I do have more ideas for it so here's a chapter for Pam. Sorry about any grammatical errors, I'm decently sure I'm older than a lot of posters on this site. It's probably been 4-5 years since I've taken any type of English class. So feel free to point them out.

The Sorting Hat

* * *

"Holy shit snacks, these robes are tight," said Pam as she clasped her hands around her 5th chocolate frog. "Got ya, ya Lil' bastard."

"Oh look a Crumple-Horned Snorkacks," said a dreamy voice to Pam's right. Pam looked down: Luna Lovegood had taken a seat at the nearest table.

"What, me? Nah, I'm just your average transfer student." Pam shoved the frog into her mouth and then burped. "...So, what are you on?"

Luna unfolded a newspaper, holding it upside down. "Hmm, I am on the cover of the Quibbler this week. Everyone is laughing, but the Ten-Toed Kabocha is real."

"No seriously." Pam snagged a pot pie off the nearest table. "You can tell me. I'm no snitch."

The paper crinkled as Luna flipped to the next page. "I know your not a snitch. Your not golden."

Snickering Pam said, "Ah yeah, Synesthesia is the best. I licked blue once."

"Blue would taste delicious, I think. If you get put in Ravenclaw maybe we can find out what all the colors taste like together. That could make a good house slogan: Ravenclaw taste the rainbow." said Luna.

"Raven-what?"

"I forgot your new." The Butter Beer caps on her necklace clicked together as Luna tilted her head in thought. "You're going to be sorted into one of the four houses. It'll be your home at Hogwarts. It's also your team in the yearly competition for the House Cup."

"Are we talking a literal cup... or is this just some metaphorical participation trophy bullshit?"

"Literal," said Luna as she pointed towards the gleaming cup.

"Alright, time to win me a new pimp chalice!"

"I hope it can hold pudding."

"There's always room for puddin'!"

A crash came from the head table as Professor Archer sprung from his seat. "Pam what the hell are you doing here!?"

"Isn't it obvious I haven't had coke in two freakin' seasons! When I heard you were going undercover at a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry, I just knew there had to be some really trippy shit there."

"Geeze Pam, way to announce we're spies to the whole damn school!" Archer slide back into his seat. "Uh, which is ridiculous because... we're not."

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly. "If you two are finished quarreling, I'd like to place my new student now."

Dragon whiskey in hand Archer sipped his drink. "Sure, go right on ahead Gandolf."

With a grand sweep of his arm, Dumbledore gestured towards the lone chair at the head of the dining hall."Miss Poovey, if you would step up here please."

Pam scurried up the aisle and sat in the chair.

As Dumbledore placed the sorting hat on Pam's head she shouted: "Come on house Kick Ass!"

" _A thousand years I've done my job,_

 _but now I rest upon a slob._

 _A fat sow she maybe,_

 _but her mind powers me."_

" _I've sorted smart._

 _I've sorted dumb._

 _I've sorted everyone._

 _So sit on your giant rear,_

 _I'll find your goddamn place, my dear."_

"That sucked donkey balls." Archer slammed his empty drink against the table. "Does this place not teach English? I mean... no one cares that you'll teach these kids a spell to tickle someone, but basic language skills is a not even on the agenda."

From the far end of the table, Severus Snape said "If you have any misgivings as to the quality of the Hogwart's tutelage, perhaps you wouldn't mind volunteering to instruct a remedial language skills class. Naturally, I would be willing to cover your position as the professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Archer swayed drunkenly in his seat."Wha- no way Mr. Tall Dark and Friendzoned. I am not giving up my boggart buddy! I feel I might actually be making some sort of physiological progress... or I just like shooting things. It's a fifty-fifty shot."

"Silence!" A tear along the battered hat twists into a frown. "Hmm. Difficult. Plenty of courage, but the mind is a bit... peculiar. Where shall I put you? Plenty of loyalty, perhaps Gryffindor or Hufflepuff."

Pam bounced in her seat. "Put me in the bird one. Uh, team blue. I want to be with my new pal on team blue. "

"Ravenclaw? No." The worn fabric wrinkled giving the appearance of furrowed brows.

"Oh, come on. I just got a drug hookup and everything!"

"I've had just about enough of this, but now I know what to do..." The Sorting Hat cackled. "Azkaban!"

The hall fell silent. Slowly Hagrid rose to take Pam away.

"Azka-wha... wait! Let go of me! God your hands are as big as Lana's."

 _Closing Theme Plays_


	3. Chapter 3: The Ladies Room

Disclaimer: Obviously, Archer and Harry Potter aren't mine. If they were I wouldn't be writing crappy fanfiction. So there you go.

First Floor Girl's Bathroom

* * *

Gillette shrugged before pushing the door open. "How the hell does anyone find the men's bathroom around here? All the stick figures are in robes."

A semi-transparent girl stood guarding one of the stalls. Sobs echoed throughout the room.

"Dukes."

Moaning Myrtle marched up to Ray poking him through his chest in an attempt to drive him back. "You have to go Draco is crying. You won't expect it, but he's such a sensitive boy."

"Mm-hmm. I'm going to make a wild guess that professor Archer had something to do with this, right?"

The ghost paused her attempted assault. "How did you know?"

"He's an asshole. It's kinda his thing."

A boy with puffy eyes and red blotches along his face came stumbling out of the stall. "That muggle dared to suggest that I'm wrong and that my father is wrong."

"Why do all the cute ones have to be crazy?" Ray sighed. "Just go ahead and cry out your daddy issues."

Leaning up against the sink, Malfoy turned on the faucet and began trying to clean his face."My father loves me."

"Still a raging dick. Loving his family is his only redeeming feature. Yours is that it makes girls giggle when they think about you dueling other boys with your wand. Oh and Tom Felton."

"No, my redemption is going to come when I finally defeat Potter!"

"You really don't listen know how to listen. This is why your life is like your hair style, full of bad choices."

There was a heavy knock on the bathroom door as Goyle said "Malfoy, Are you in there? I hope you're not snogging Moaning Myrtle... She was a bloody Ravenclaw!"

Ray turned towards the door. "Not right now, Thing One and Thing Two. We're having a moment!"

Rushing up behind the older man, Malfoy grabbed one of his holstered guns. Malfoy elbowed Gillette's stomach with his other arm. "Give me those! If that stupid drunk can use them then I should be an instant expert."

"Hey, you can't just go grabbing on Liz and Barba like that! They're ladies!"

The two jostled each other for control, but during the struggle, Liz fired at the doorway.

Goyle's voice cracked as he yelled "Crabbe!"

A sobbing Crabbe screamed "My leg!"

Releasing his hold on Ray, Malfoy fled the room. "... help some nutter is attacking students!"

"Double Dukes."

 _ _Closing Theme Plays__


	4. Chapter 4: The Four Houses

Disclaimer: Obviously, Archer and Harry Potter aren't mine. If they were I wouldn't be writing crappy fanfiction. So there you go.

The Four Houses

* * *

Cyril and Lana, in yellow and red robes respectively, stood under a tree in the courtyard. Students littered the courtyard, but the children and teens kept a clear distance from the pair except for two red heads. Identical they both peered out from behind the tree one to the left and the other to the right.

The left boy pointed towards them. "Fred, do you see that old bloke there, he's ancient and still doing having to do homework. Maybe mother is right about us needing to study more for our O.W.L.s"

Fred snickered. "Don't be ridiculous, George. There's no way he's ever done homework if he's still a first year at his age."

George smiled at his brother. "Think he'd offer us tips?"

"Hey," said Cyril. "I'll have you know I've done lots of homework in my time."

Grabbing a hold of Cyril's arm, Lana pushed herself into being between him and the twins. "Could you boys give us a moment, please?"

They looked at each other. George shrugged his shoulders, while Fred mouthed the words 'extendable ears you twit' to his brother. Both then turned towards Lana and said "Yes, mum" before strolling away.

Cyril huffed while crossing his arms. "Lana, I could have handled that."

"Cyril, you didn't even dye your hair," said Lana as she pointed at the gray streaks around his temples. "How did you expect to pass as a teenager?"

Hesitantly, Cyril touched one hand to his hair."I just... I guess I didn't think of myself as old yet." He sighed. "At least Plan A: infiltrate Hogwarts seems to be going well. Archer has been placed as the professor of Defense Against the Arts, I've managed to get into Hufflepuff and you've gotten into Gryffindor"

"What if A fails?"

"Then we'll revise our strategy. There are 25 more letters, even this group can't fu-."

"-Pam, Pam, there's a Pam in the Dungeon!" Cheryl came running out into the courtyard. Wheezing she came to a halt by the tree. "They're gonna send her to, like, Alcatraz for magic people."

Massaging her temples, Lana said, "I'm sure I'll regret asking this, but what were you doing in the dungeon?"

Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Where else would I find people to choke me? Duh."

Lana groaned and then covered her face with her hands. "And yup, there it is. The soul crushing regret."

"It's ok, we'll just break it all down to one thing at a time. We can deal with Pam later," said Cyril as he patted Lana's back in support. "For now did you complete your mission, Cheryl?"

"Oh, right yeah. Ha, I called some ratty hat poor and it put me in Slytherin," said Cheryl. "Or maybe it's because I'm rich. I'm pretty sure I own this school, there was something about there being a Tunt spot on the Hogwarts Board of Governors back when Cecil was trying to steal everything from me."

Cyril smacked his palm against his forehead. "And you couldn't have said any of this when we were deciding on where everyone would go?"

"Chh. No, It was like a long time ago." Cheryl said shrugging her shoulders. " ...Wait, I remember now. I'm 1/64th magic."

"You can't be 1/64th magic, Cheryl. You're either magical or a muggle... unless you're a squib, then you just know JK Rowling hated your guts," said Lana.

Cheryl's eyes narrowed. "I knew you wouldn't believe me. Oh, my god, It's just like the old gypsy woman said!" Gasping, she pointed at a frizzy-haired woman in the distance before waving towards her. "Hey look, there she is. Hi, Professor Trelawney!"

Across the courtyard, Professor Trelawney flinched and then waved back before exiting into the halls of Hogwarts.

Wide-eyed Lana took a step back in shock. "Wait. There actually was a gypsy woman this whole time?! ...This is making way too much sense."

Smiling Cheryl pulled a stack of papers out of her purse and began to thumb through them. "Of course it all makes sense. I did pay someone to explain this all to me before I got here, I'm not stupid. Let me see... So they're these three teens that have to save the world from evil. There are one girl and two boys. For some reason, the girl is on fire, one boy sparkles, and the other boy is made of pita bread"

Lana shook her head. "Wow, there is so much wrong with that. I don't even know where to start."

The fabric of his blue robes swished together as Ray walked up to the group."Girl, you would not believe the day I've had. I wrestled with an albino boy in the girl's bathroom and shoots were fired."

"What's wrong with you these are children!" said Cyril with a sneer.

Ray held his hands out in from of him defensively. "No, you pervert. Actual shots, the Lil' shit grabbed poor Liz. The manhandling freaked her out."

Lana sighed. "Ray, sweetie why would you have had your guns loaded? That's trigger safety 101."

Frowning Ray said, "Because I was tired of Archer calling me a pussy!" Embarrassed at his outburst, he looked away from the group focusing his eyes on the tree's roots. "...Anyway just came to report in. I infiltrated Ravenclaw after some blonde girl passed me yelling _'Ravenclaw taste the rainbow'_. I've got to tell you, it's a lot less gay club and a lot more future starving artist than I thought."

"Kids are weird... Now that I think about it, where's your vagdemon?" said Cheryl.

Lana groaned."I left Abbiejean with Mallory... I know, I know. Stop giving me that look! Mallory is a monster, but given that the bad guy we're looking for only got himself in trouble by attempting infanticide I'll take my chances."

Nose crinkling in disgust Cyril pointed at Cheryl. "Do you really have to call kids vagdemons?"

Shrugging Cheryl said, "Not really, I could call them crotch gremlins or wombnuggets."

Cyril huffed. "You're going to regret calling them that when you have kids one day."

"I don't want a dream smashing jizz tumor in me!" said Cheryl.

With a heavy sigh, Cyril bowed his head. "Accidents happen Cheryl."

Cheryl smiled. "Yes, accidents do happen. Then those accidents get aborted."

Ray faked a cough. "Inappropes..."

"I think it's safe to say meeting adjourned for now. So if you don't mind there's something I need to go take care of." Lana turned away from the group. Her eyes narrowed on a thin strip of flesh colored wiring. Walking along the trail she exited the courtyard. As she rounded the corner into the hallway she spotted two familiar red head huddled together. "And now for you two."

Fred and George froze as Lana grabbed onto their shoulders from behind.

"Ack your hands. Are you a half-giant?!"

"Bloody hell!"

Snickering Lana released the pair. "What, did you think you were being subtle with the whole mouthing words thing. I'm a spy, I can read lips."

Wiping the imaginary dust off his robe Fred turned towards his brother. "Blimey, 007 at Hogwarts. I bet she has a license to kill. "

"With that level of subtly? I doubt she even has a learners permit," said George, snickering.

"Yes, yes, very funny boys." Lana nudged to cord with her foot. "Now would either of you care to explain what this is?"

George flinched at the sound of the cord dragging against the stone floor."Don't break it! It's a survivor of mum's 3rd Extendable Ears purge."

"A little invention of ours, we call them Extendable Ears. They let the user listen in on conversations in the distance," said Fred, picking the gadget up.

Lana eyed the small device. She did have several sound amplifiers with her, but a local device would be preferable for the sake of at least trying to stay undercover."Fine. I'll let you keep your toy on one condition. If I say I need one of your gadgets, you'll lend me whatever it is I need."

Fred and George glanced over at each other and then both smiled.

George reached forward to shake hands. "Deal. Does this make us honorary spies then mum?"

Taking George's hand, Lana's lips twisted into a half-smile. "Stop calling me mum and you can be honorary spies."

" Sweet," said Fred as he and his brother fist bumped. "...Just promise me we'll both live. I've been reading a bit more lately and noticed being a twin is like being a dog in an award winning book. _'Two Hearts Beat As One'_ , _'Among Others', 'Identical'_ , ' _Hidden Warrior'_ , _'The Lying Game'_ , _'The Summer King'_ , _'The One Left Behind'_ and uh-"

"-' _The Ice Twins',_ " said George.

Fred nodded. "Right, that one too and that's just a few. It's been making me paranoid."

Looking away from the brothers, Lana gave a thoughtful hum. That wasn't something she could say truthfully. "I promise to do my best to make sure you two boys stay alive."

High-fiving his brother, George said, "This is going to be a great year: Lana the Half-Giant and the Twins Who Lived!"

 _ _Closing Theme Plays__


	5. Chapter 5: The Ministry of Magic

Disclaimer: Obviously, Archer and Harry Potter aren't mine. If they were I wouldn't be writing crappy fanfiction. So there you go.

Ministry of Magic

* * *

As Berry entered the office he gave a low whistle. It was the ugliest room he'd ever seen. Pink walls, pink furniture, and rows upon rows of dishes with cats painted on them decorated the office. It was like walking into a Barbie doll house if Barbie was a bitter old toad instead of a tour guide leading president. A fat woman in pink sat at her desk sipping tea.

The cat painting on the plate yowled as Dolores placed her teacup on a saucer. "Something you'd like to say, dear?"

"So you're the one Cornelius Fudge hired to scare small children."

With a delicate click, Dolores lifted her teacup. Holding her drink she smiled, just a bit too toothily to be considered pleasant, before taking a sip. "I am the senior undersecretary Dolores Jane Umbridge."

"Uh huh good, then I have the right person." Crossing the room, Berry plopped himself down in the chair in front of her desk. "You see Dolores, I need a partner."

Looking down at him over her tea cup Dolores said, "And I need a pay raise, but we don't always get what we want."

"Fortunately for us, I managed to get a hold of a few KGB intel reports," said Berry. He dropped his voice to an angry mutter. "Which would have been a lot easier had a certain ex not decided to be a total bionic bitch. "

Exhaling loudly, Berry paused. He then said, "According to those reports the evilest person in magical Britain and the one who the most people want dead, comes down to either you or some kid named Ginny Weasley."

Dolores faked a cough, it sounded like the high-pitched warble of a strangled bird. " _Hem-Hem_ ...lovely," She placed her tea down and drew her wand. "However, there is no reason for me to work with you."

"I have great qualifications; unlike you, I don't shriek in terror at the sight of My Little Pony."

Wand aimed at his chest, Dolores said, "I'm a pure-blood. You're just some mudblood, who has invaded my office. Now I'm going to have to make you leave." She smiled. "Don't take this personally, deep down you know you deserve to be punished."

"Imperio."

The spell bounced off Berry's metal body with a ping and struck her velvet curtains. A large char mark smoldered as the curse dissipated with a hiss. "Don't scratch the paint job, artificial skin is expensive. "

Wide-eyed Dolores stared in shock at her drapes. She slowly turned back to Berry with a tightly forced smile on her lips. "On second thought, perhaps we can help each other. It's come to the Ministry's attention that a certain muggle has obtained employment at Hogwarts. The educational standards are dropping as we speak. I fear the situation is... dire."

"Any chance you're talking about an alcoholic fucknugget named Sterling Mallory Archer, codename: Duchess?" said Berry.

Dolores gave a slow nod. "The person of interest is indeed one Sterling Archer." She extended her arm out for a handshake. "I hope that we are going to be very good friends."

Berry shook her hand and said, "Of course, Berry is nice. Right until Other Berry is not nice."

There was a small thump as Dolores pushed her photo of Cornelius Fudge face down on her desk. "Sometimes for the greater good rotten apples must be removed. The time has come to deal with Mr. Potter"

"I was the head of ODIN and the KGB, I think I can kill a teenager," said Berry. He rolled his eyes. "I mean this kid has two friends. Two point five if we count his bird."

"How wonderful. The Ministry of Magic will, of course, support your efforts against should you succeed. " Said, Dolores, as she clapped her hands together once in excitement.

Berry looked down his nose and triumph curled on his lips as he asked, "I kill one kid and all of magical Britain goes to war against Archer?"

"Of course, naughty children deserve to be punished."

Berry licked his lips, victory over Archer was so close he could taste it. "Oh this is too good," He paused thoughtfully. "And that's not just the vengeance talking; imagine wizards and a cyborg battling a super spy. Ha, ten-year-old me would have killed to see this. All I need now is some giant to come up to me and to say 'You're a wizard Berry'."

Another fake cough squeaked out from Delores's lips. " _Hem-Hem_ The operation may be quite risky. Do try not to avoid any fatal injuries if at all possible. I don't want to have extra paperwork on my desk next Monday."

Berry as he tapped a finger to his cheek producing a metallic clang. "Near death experiences, I've been there, I've done that, and I'm not going back. The thing is you can't flirt with death too much, otherwise she starts thinking you want a relationship upgrade to something serious and death is just my side bitch."

"Speaking of fraternization, " Dolores leaned across her desk towards Berry. "I do love powerful men. Romantic Decree No.69: You are required to go out on a date with me. No exceptions."

Leaving his seat, Berry backed away. "I could say it's about me and go on about missing Katya... but yeah... an inter-species romance with a toad just isn't going to work out for me. Progress for progress sake must be prohibited, right?"

"Who is Katya?" asked Dolores nearly bearing her teeth as she tried to force her frown into a smile.

"My ex-lover. ...She had great tits."

"What did you just say?"

"I said, 'she had great tits.'"

Dolores huffed. "Talking about another woman in front of me. That truly is unforgivable."

"The truly unforgivable thing is that you survived the book."

"It happened and I'm sure we can happen too." said Dolores with a wink.

Raising a hand to his chin, Berry pretended to think it over. "Hmm, not a chance. Too many people want to see you and a dementor together. They can't wait for the first kiss."

Rummaging through her desk, Dolores produced a black quill pen. "I want you to write, I must break the 4th wall. You won't need any ink."

"Of course I won't," said Berry. Pointing his finger, the tip flipped up revealing a ball-point. Ink shot out onto Umbridge's clothes. "Ha ha, Cyborg."

" **Get out**."

"Alright, but are we still good on the killing the Potter kid deal?"

From between clenched teeth, Umbridge hissed "Yes."

Exiting the office, Berry paused after closing the door and chucked to himself.

"Everything is coming up Berry. Right, Other Berry? Right."

 _ _Closing Theme Plays__

* * *

I just want to take a moment to stop and say thanks to the people who have hit the favorite button or followed this story and to PhilyCh3zSt3ak, NakedFury, and TheCheeseCat for reviewing. This story started as a one-shot, but I've since come up with a story line and events for each chapter. This chapter marks the halfway point. I hope everyone will stick with me till chapter 10.


	6. Chapter 6: 4 Privet Drive

Disclaimer: Obviously, Archer and Harry Potter aren't mine. If they were I wouldn't be writing crappy fanfiction. So there you go.

4 Privet Drive

* * *

Malory Archer was willing to say after reading her mission statement that Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four Privet Drive, were the most boring couple in existence, thank you very much. They were the last people anyone would expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious because they just didn't know how to remove the large stick stuck up their asses.

With baby Abbiejean in a stroller and her servant Woodhouse in tow, Malory stood in front of the Dursley's front door. Sneering she said, "Ugh this place reeks of peasant." Holding a handkerchief to her face she stepped back. "Woodhouse, knock on the door. I don't want to get infected by the taint of lower-middle class suburbia. I might become obsessed with soccer and ugly minivans."

Woodhouse went to the door and turned the knob. A sharp click confirmed it was locked.

"What fresh incompetence is this? Can't you even open a door!"

"Madam the door appears to be locked," said Woodhouse. Sighing he poked the small button to ring the doorbell.

Vernon Dursley growled out from behind the door. "Oh no. We're not talking to another stranger with a baby. The last time that happened we got stuck with the kid. Go away, your kind isn't welcome here!"

Malory's lips formed a thin line of disapproval. "My kind?" Her voice was low and soft. "…hand me my purse."

As she grabbed her purse from Woodhouse, Vernon puffed up behind the door. "Yes your kind, now go away. There is no post on Sundays so whatever you're here for, we're not interested!"

Muttering harshly to herself, items rattled about as she pawed through her purse. She pulled out a white plastic mass. "I have 4kg of C4 open the door or lose it."

A rough cough came from Woodhouse. "Wouldn't it be safer to just shoot the door hinges?"

"And have shrapnel and ricocheting bullets flying around near little A.J., what am I a monster?"

As Petunia Dursley opened the door, her voice was high pitched and tight. "You can't do that, this door is handcrafted mahogany. I'll call the police!"

Rolling her eyes, Malory put the C4 back in her purse. "Pshh you really think I didn't cut the phone wires before coming in." With a dismissive hand wave, she strolled past Petunia into the house. Woodhouse followed as he pushed A.J.'s stroller.

With a sigh, Malory handed her purse back to Woodhouse. "Landline phones and that dress, you two are the worst case of trapped in the 90s I have ever seen."

Placing her hands on her hips, Petunia asked, "Do you even know what year it is?"

"Not a damn clue," said Malory as she entered the living room. Looking around she frowned, the stripped wallpaper was the tackiest she'd ever seen and the drapes were the color of vomit. "But I'm sure I'm in the era of plot convenience. Whenever the hell I am it better be after the invention of alcohol. Get to it chop chop!"

With a forced smile, Petunia nodded like a proper hostess and the stormed off stomping her way into the kitchen.

Blowing his cheeks out with a huff, Vernon's red face resembled a squeeling pig. "We're not serving a stranger in our own house. For that matter, you don't even look like you eat."

"I eat, for example, this morning I had coffee and pills. The breakfast of champions," said Malory, taking a seat on the Dursley's living room couch.

Petunia placed a cup and saucer in front of Malory. "Have some tea."

Raising the cup to her lips, Malory took a sip and said, "Woodhouse, I just drank leaf juice. Are you happy now?"

"I am completely miserable, madam."

A pudgy boy walked into the living room. "I don't think I've seen you before. You own me years of birthday and Chrismas presents!"

"Who are you?" asked Malory.

"Dudley."

"Now there's a parental vote of confidence. That sounds like the name you'd give a bumbling Canadian Mountie."

Towering over them both, Vernon wrapped an arm over Dudley's shoulder. "Don't speak that way to my son. Dudley is a lovely name, nice and normal." His mustache twitched as he sneered. "Now, what will it take to get you out of my house?"

"I came here to get you to sign some paperwork on one of your children." said Malory with a snap of her fingers Woodhouse produced the documents from her purse.

Snatching the offered bundle, Vernon scrambled to pull his reading glasses out of his coat's breast pocket. "We can't just sign off on legal papers without reading them."

"My financial adviser told me the same thing. We laughed and laughed. Then I fired him." Malory's eyes narrowed as she paused. "Immolation takes longer than you'd expect."

Vernon jabbed the paper stack at Malory, using it to point. "This is about Harry, isn't it? It's always that little weirdo with you people."

"Yes, and if the stars align to form the alphabet, we just might be able to get through this without me shooting anybody."

Letting out a harsh breath, Vernon gestured with the papers towards the front door. "Look we did as the last set of weirdos asked and moved him out of the broom closet so leave us alone."

"You keep your child in a broom closet?" Malory cackled with glee. "That's brilliant, why didn't I think of it before. I gave Sterling an entire mansion and all he turned out to be was a vain, selfish, lying, and quite possibly alcoholic man-whore."

Vernon snorted as he thumbed through the thick stack of paper. His eyebrows shot into his hairline as he said, "These are adoption papers! Is this legal?"

"Perfectly. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and I worked out a very _flexible_ arrangement. So, if you don't want to end up as a bloody milkshake... I suggest you sign."

Flinching at her tone, Vernon pulled a pen out of his pocket and signed all the forms. "Ugh, Petunia dear, welcome to the funeral."

"Who died?" asked Petunia, her mouth twisted into a thin frown.

"Just my dignity."

Loudly clearing his throat Whoodhouse said, "Perhaps the young masters will become friends."

Rubbing her temples Malory tried to fight the inevitable headache that came from thinking of her son. "Sterling certainly does still act like a child." She hummed thoughtfully. "He did make a friend... once. I believe I told them to go play Hot Potato."

Eyeing Malory's purse, Vernon huffed in contempt and asked, "What did you give them a grenade?"

Malory gasped. "I wouldn't hand my precious baby a live grenade it was a normal potato."

Woodhouse tilted his head in confusion. "But the explosion..."

"Was to be expected. They were playing in a minefield after all." Malory stood up from the couch. "Let's go, Woodhouse. It's time I go pick up my sons from school."

 _ _Closing Theme Plays__


End file.
